


prototype hearts

by anuk_ite



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Canon Divergence, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, protect Theo Raeken 2k17
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-29
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-12-21 07:25:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11939205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anuk_ite/pseuds/anuk_ite
Summary: Scott severely understated the problem that the rogue omega would turn out to be. But that's not even Theo's biggest problem right now--no, not even close. That honor would go to one Liam Dunbar, who was both harder to understand than anticipatedandthe object of a crazy werewolf's desires.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title is a nod to Ra Ra Riot's _Beta Love_. I'm not funny, I'm _hilarious_.
> 
> This occurs between 6a and 6b: the events of 6b do occur eventually (although not in this fic), just are somewhat delayed and modified. Admittedly I don't remember 5b all that well in a play-by-play sense, so some things might seem redundant. 
> 
> For a recap, here's what has and hasn't happened yet, both canon and in this fic:  
> \- Theo is living in his truck, and has assimilated back into society (read: gotten a couple of jobs) since Theo's Rise: the Un-Deathening.  
> \- Brett is not dead. (Neither is Lori.)  
> \- At some unspecified point in the recent past, Theo had a brief run-in with Satomi's pack, during which time he learned stuff about werewolves from, you know, an actual pack instead of a power-crazy trio of plague doctors.  
> \- Stiles and Derek are both out of state, dealing with their own problems on the eastern seaboard.  
> \- Neither Tamora Monroe nor the Anuk-Ite are problems. (Yet.) But the Wild Hunt is gone, and life has resumed.

Theo awoke to the sound of metal garbage cans falling over. Staring at the roof of his truck in the near-perfect pitch-blackness—broken only by the faint yellow light of a nearby streetlamp—Theo groaned and rolled his eyes.

As he sat up his worn fleece blanket fell and he grabbed for his phone where it was resting on the center console between the front seats. He fumbled for the power button, wincing when his phone turned on and assaulted him with his plain, pale blue lock screen. He must’ve forgotten to turn down the brightness before he fell asleep.

He squinted at it, and eventually the blur resolved itself into numbers. 1:27 AM, the readout declared. Theo groaned again. Despite the all-too-real possibility of danger, Theo just wanted to curl back up under his blanket and sleep for another five hours, or at least until one of Stilinski’s deputies started banging on his windows.

But whatever was out there only continued to make noise. “Dammit,” Theo said, with feeling, and kicked his blanket all the way off.

The night air was cool and strangely damp against his face as Theo cautiously opened the door, locking the truck behind him and pocketing his keys, because he was fucked if whoever—or whatever—was out there made off with everything he had.

A dark flash of movement appeared in the corner of Theo’s eye: a raccoon, scurrying across the street with something in its mouth, probably raiding the bins of the hipsters that lived in the few renovated warehouses in the area.

Theo tipped his head back and said, thoroughly annoyed, “It’s just a fucking _raccoon_.” He sighed, kicked the toe of his shoe against the concrete, and sighed again, lamenting the loss of a full night’s sleep, it being rare enough as it was.

He’d already turned around, thoroughly intending to get back into his truck and catch a little more shut-eye before work in the morning, when the growling started.

“Why is this my life _,_ ” he said, a little louder, just in case whatever higher power was listening hadn’t heard him yet.

He turned around slowly, hands raised and placating, and came face to face with a snarling werewolf.

Okay, so maybe face to face was an exaggeration. She—and Theo was about 90% sure on the _she_ —was about twenty-five yards away, perched on top of a dumpster and snarling at him, wolfed-out and fangs bared, yellow eyes glinting in the dark.

“If you’re living in that dumpster, you _definitely_ have it worse off than I do,” Theo said, matter-of-fact, because the other option was to completely lose his shit (what the _fuck_ was up with Beacon Hills and forever-imminent death, anyways? Theo was starting to see why Stiles had taken off for the other side of the freaking _country_ ) and Theo, as a rule, avoided panicking at all costs. He moved a little closer, flaring his eyes at her.

She dropped down from the dumpster, landing on all fours, and stalked towards Theo, teeth gnashing. The girl’s matted, ratty hair swung around her face as she roared at him nonsensically, definitely well below the ear-shattering decibel that most ‘wolves could hit. Theo frowned as her roar tapered off, ending in a low growl.

Usually werewolves could tell what other ‘wolves were trying to say by their roar—like, for instance, that one time at the school, Liam had been roaring _back-no-get away_ and so Theo had left, fully content with the fact that Liam had been forced to reveal his status as not-quite-human to Mason, but that was neither here nor there.

The point was, this girl was _feral_ , but not quite in the murderous stage yet, she was just sort of out of her mind and defensive and scared, and very, very angry. Her eyes were still yellow, after all.

The ripped sleeve of her hoodie showed off a tattoo of a stylized sun—a circle with a spiral curling inwards, curled water droplets ringing it, which Theo figured were supposed to represent the sunbeams or whatever.

The fangs curving over each other, the saliva dripping out of the girl’s mouth and onto the cement, the semi-sweet smell of rotting garbage hanging heavy in the air: it all cemented in Theo the impression that he very much Did Not Want To Be There, and so he very, very calmly beat a quick retreat to the car, throwing himself into the driver’s seat and inelegantly shoving his key into the ignition.

As Theo peeled out of there, rubber squealing on the asphalt, he dialed Scott with one hand and was absolutely unsurprised to find that the phone just kept ringing and ringing until there was a _click_ and Scott’s voice said, _“You’ve reached the voicemail of Scott McCall—oh my god, stop, Stiles—call me back or leave a message, frick, what the heck Sti—_ ” followed by another loud click.

“Hey Scott,” Theo said, feeling incredibly awkward about it. “Um, I was out by the old warehouses and I saw this omega? She seemed pretty out of it, I didn’t touch her, but I figured you’d want to know.”

Theo hit the ‘end call’ button and tossed his phone into the passenger seat. As soon as he pulled into the parking lot of the local McDonalds, he didn’t even bother getting into the back seat—he just reclined the seat, and despite the bright fluorescent glare and deafening electric hum of the iconic golden arches high above, he was out in a matter of seconds.

 

* * *

 

When Theo woke up again, it felt like only seconds had passed.

But dawn’s watery light had already started to filter into the truck, and when Theo sat up, the sun glared into his eyes, confirming that yes, he had, in fact, slept for a good five or six hours. A good thing, then, that it was a weekday; he would’ve overslept if it had been a Saturday or Sunday.

Theo sat up and checked the windows—no deputies. So what had woken him up?

His question was answered moments later when his phone buzzed. Theo glanced over at it and sighed, leaning over the console to grab it and turn it on.

The lock screen indicated that he’d missed a call from Scott. He tapped in his passcode—his sister’s birthday—and pulled up the messages, of which he apparently had four.

 _From Scott McCall:_ You okay?

 _From Scott McCall:_ What were you doing at the warehouses anyway?

 _From Scott McCall:_ Were meeting at Josie’s for lunch @ noon, stop by

 _From Scott McCall:_ *We’re

Theo’s fingers ghosted over the keys as he debated what to say. The urge to just ignore it and high-tail it out of town to avoid the inevitable interrogation was overwhelmingly strong, as was the urge to point out Scott’s unintentional pun, but Theo found himself tapping out a string of messages in response to Scott’s.

 _To Scott McCall:_ Why do you care?

 _To Scott McCall:_ I was sleeping.

 _To Scott McCall:_ And fine, as long as Malia promises not to kill me and put my head on a pike.

Scott must’ve been waiting on an answer, because three more texts came in, rapid-fire.

 _From Scott McCall:_??

 _From Scott McCall:_ You know what, Im not touching those first two with a ten foot pole right now

Theo frowned, confused. “Okay,” he muttered, drawing out the o. If Scott wasn’t going to just spit it out, Theo wouldn’t push him.

What? He was trying to be a decent person now.

 _From Scott McCall:_ No promises. Will see you at lunch though. Bring your own money

 _To Scott McCall:_ Fine, I’ll be there.

 

* * *

 

The diner was crowded. Admittedly, Theo hadn’t been back long enough to truly appreciate Beacon Hills’ more popular dining establishments. It had something to do with how he barely had enough money to put his clothes through the wash at the laundromat and pay for gas and food and toothpaste, but it was mostly because of the scene that was currently greeting him.

Under his oversized San Francisco 49ers hoodie, his shoulders tensed as McCall’s pack turned their collective gaze on him. He pulled his hands out of his pockets and held them up in supplication as he slid in at the end of their U-shaped booth, Mason scooting a little further from him as he did so.

Idly, Theo noted the similarities between the on-edge pack and the wild girl he’d seen at the warehouses.

“Hey, Theo,” Scott said, smile tight around the edges. Which, fair. “We’ve already ordered, but if you want we can—”

“No need,” Theo said, still holding his hands up. “Not hungry.”

Judging by the sudden little furrow between Liam’s eyebrows, he hadn’t lied all that well. His stomach was gnawing at the inside of his chest; he hadn’t bothered getting food earlier and was deeply regretting it, but between the wary look on Corey’s face and the downright murderous one on Malia’s he got the feeling that he wasn’t really there to break bread.

“Okay,” Scott said.

“Why is he even here?” Malia interjected, slapping one hand onto the table and leaning in. “We should just—”

Scott’s expression went a little tighter, and his eyes flashed red. “We’re here to talk about the omega that’s been lurking around Beacon Hills, Malia,” he said, and Malia didn’t back down—Malia would never—but she did soften a bit, around the edges. “Theo saw her.”

“You did?” Liam burst out, eyebrows flying up. At an admonishing look from Scott, Liam muttered a “Sorry” and slouched into his seat, playing with the straw in his soda.

“Um, okay,” Mason said. “Let’s just start with the basics. An omega is…”

When no one answered, Theo said, “A wolf without a pack,” despite the fact that everyone probably knew this already.

From the looks on their faces, Theo could tell exactly what they were thinking— _like Theo_. Theo sighed through his nose and drew his elbows in a little, more on reflex than anything.

“Yeah,” Scott said at length, gaze considering. “I talked to Deaton, since her behavior’s been kind of odd. She’s been loitering, but she hasn’t been particularly aggressive, and she hasn’t killed anybody yet.”

“Yellow eyes,” Theo corrected. “Means she hasn’t killed anyone _innocent,_ not that she hasn’t killed. But she seemed plenty aggressive when she nearly bit my face off last night.”

“I thought you said you didn’t hurt her,” Scott said, a concerned, nearly aggressive note in his voice.

Theo felt an itch along his gums and beat back the shift, annoyed at his own quick temper. “I didn’t. When she started snapping her teeth at me, I turned tail. I don’t want to hurt anyone else if I don’t have to.”

“Oh,” Scott said, taken aback. Liam made a noise low in his throat that could be interpreted as anything from _cool, bro_ to _sounds fake, but okay_. “Anyways. Argent’s been making noises about putting her down, but I told him to hold off a little longer. Technically, since they’ve got no proof, they can’t move in yet.”

“What did Deaton say?” Corey piped up, still eyeing Theo warily.

“He said that omegas generally do one of three things,” Scott said. “One, they have enough control over their shift and a strong enough anchor that they can stay mostly human, save for a shorter temper, like Derek Hale. Two, they go completely feral, attacking everyone and everything in their path—these are the ones that the Argent clan is well within their bounds to take out, since once they go wild there’s basically no turning back. Or, if they can full-shift and go feral, they do what Malia did and become an ordinary-looking animal.”

“She looked plenty feral,” Theo pointed out. “But from what I could tell, she hadn’t totally lost the plot yet.”

“She is the third thing,” Scott said. “It’s somewhere between the first two. They fixate on something, an object, a person, a place—whatever it is, they don’t have it but they want it. That desire apparently acts as an incredibly unstable anchor, allowing them to strike a precarious balance between their animal side and their human side. Deaton’s words, not mine.”

“How old do you think she was?” Malia asked, looking incredibly peeved at having to ask Theo anything. “You’re the only one that actually saw her for longer than half a second.”

Theo digested this tidbit of information. He didn’t know what it _meant_ that he was the only one who’d seen her—not for the pack, at least—but he did know it meant he was the only one with any information about her. He could flat-out lie to them and they would have to believe it.

But Liam was looking at him expectantly, and so was the rest of the pack, and Theo didn’t have it in him to lie anymore. “Probably about our age, maybe a bit younger. It was kind of hard to tell. But she did have a tattoo.”

The waitress came by with trays loaded with food: burgers for the shifters, a salad for Mason, and baskets upon baskets of hot fries, some of which were stacked with cheese and garlic and other things. Theo’s stomach grumbled again. Liam frowned at his burger like it had personally offended him.

After thanking the waitress, Scott turned his attention back towards Theo. “What was it?”

“Her pack symbol, probably.” Scott seemed taken aback by this, and Theo’s brows shot up. “Do you seriously not know what pack symbols are? I thought you did.”

“I do,” Scott defended, much to the obvious confusion of the rest of the pack. “The Hale pack’s symbol was the curly triskelion, right?”

“The one you made me practice with?” Liam said.

“Here—who has a pen?” Theo interjected. Mason produced one from his back pocket and handed it to Theo gingerly. Theo snagged Liam’s napkin, to which the beta protested vociferously, but Theo ignored him as he sketched out the Satomi pack’s stacked rocks. “This,” he said, holding it up to show Scott, “is the Satomi pack’s symbol. Represents stacked rocks and balance or something, it wasn’t the most important thing at the moment. The Hale pack’s was one of the oldest—the three curls could stand for pretty much anything. Yours is that shitty tattoo, or, if you were to draw it out, two circles within each other—yeah, look at you, you _do_ remember it. So do I.”

He set the napkin down on the table again and quickly sketched the girl’s sun tattoo, starting with the circle and looping inwards, drawing the little curved droplets at the cardinal points and filling in three between each one. “This was hers.”

He slid the napkin across to Scott, who picked it up wordlessly and fished his phone out of his pocket—presumably to send a photo of it to Stiles. “Thanks, Theo.”

“Sure.” Theo made to stand up. “My shift starts in, like, fifteen minutes, so this is good timing.”

“You have a job?” Corey asked incredulously.

“I’ve been working since I returned to Beacon Hills. Was kind of tricky to explain that I was dead for about three weeks and that was why I couldn’t show up, but a few extra shifts here and there, and my bosses were cool with it.”

Liam was doing a fantastic impression of a fish. Malia looked as if she didn’t care, but the only other person who didn’t look genuinely confused was Scott.

“Why?” he asked instead.

The side of Theo’s mouth quirked up. “I didn’t graduate high school, Scott. I was dead. And I’m pretty sure college isn’t in the cards anymore. I’ve got to eat somehow.”

 

* * *

 

Theo’s shift at the coffee shop, despite the post-work trickle, was long and boring. Half a dozen girls wearing pastels and Adidas swarmed in a little after two, probably from the community college based solely on how old they seemed. They appeared thoroughly stumped when Theo informed them that no, they did not make frappucinos, nor did they have a “secret menu,” and then they proceeded to flirt atrociously with him.

On any other day Theo would have been preening and chatting them up, charm turned up to eleven, but dealing with the low-grade hostility of the McCall pack at lunch had him worn out and tired—and worse, he hadn’t had time to stop for more than a package of chips before work,  

Fifteen minutes before his shift ended, his phone buzzed in his pocket, and he gritted his teeth. Ms. Kasuga was emphatically _against_ using phones while working, no matter how slow the day was going. He busied himself with wiping down the counter for Jake, his replacement, and just as he was finishing up his phone buzzed again—three times, in rapid succession.

He glanced at the clock: ten minutes until his shift officially ended. If he asked politely, though…

He poked his head into the break room tucked away in the back. Ms. Kasuga was doing something on her computer, reading glasses perched at the end of her delicate nose.

“Yes, Theo?” she asked.

Theo smiled tentatively. “Do you mind if I leave a couple minutes early?”

She stared at him for a long few moments, during which Theo’s stomach sunk down into his shoes. After a moment, she said, “I’ve been waiting for you to ask me that. Theo, you need to take a break once in a while. Jake, you’re starting early today,” she called, as the bell on the door rung.

“Sure thing, Ms. K,” Jake called back amiably.

“Honestly,” Ms. Kasuga said reproachfully. “I _do_ know about most of what goes on in this town. You open with Mr. Willis at his nursery across town on the weekends, you come here after lunch, and you close with Ms. Peters at the hardware store. And everyone I’ve ever talked to always says something about how industrious and energetic you are.”

“It’s really not a big deal,” Theo said, weakly. But when Ms. Kasuga got like this, there was really no stopping her. Theo was half-convinced Jake wore earplugs while he was working to avoid Ms. Kasuga’s legendary rants.

“Every day, Theo,” she said, “you work harder than any employee I’ve ever had. You are punctual and efficient, you always take on the hardest challenges, but you never, ever have once asked for help.”

“I just—”

“You don’t want to bother anyone, I understand.” Ms. Kasuga leaned over stiffly and came back up with her massive purse, from which she produced a truly monstrous bag of Kit-Kat bites. “But understand, Theo, that we want to help you.”

Something twisted in Theo’s gut. “I couldn’t—”

“But you will.” Ms. Kasuga shoved the bag across the table, plastic crinkling, and Theo picked it up gingerly. Kit-Kats were his favorite, not that he’d ever admit it.

“But… why?”

“There doesn’t need to be a _why_ , Theo. Not everything has an explanation. Now go, be a kid.”

Speechlessness formed a knot in his throat, and it took a Herculean effort to just nod and turn and start walking towards the employee exit in the back.

“Hey, I want a Kit-Kat,” Jake protested, poking his head into the room, jealousy oozing off of him in spades.

“Get back to work,” Ms. Kasuga snapped.

If Theo was smiling just a little bit—a real smile, not one that felt weird and fake on his face—no one was around to see it.

A faint smell struck Theo as familiar, but he ignored it in favor of unlocking his car and setting the Kit-Kats in the passenger seat. He remembered the string of texts that had led to him _getting_ the Kit-Kats and unlocked his phone, to four new texts from an unsaved number.

 _From Unsaved Number_ : Hey theo Scott gave me ur number. This is Liam by the way

 _From Unsaved Number_ : Check the bed of ur truck

Raising an eyebrow, Theo stuck his foot into the wheel well above the rear tire and hauled himself up. When he spotted the unremarkable take-out carton tucked into the corner, he swung into the bed proper and picked it up, noting the smell of French fries, garlic, and the undefinable smell of _Liam_.

“Of course Liam would,” Theo said, a smile twitching at his mouth involuntarily, as he opened the carton. Inside was a generous pile of loaded fries, cool to the touch but still edible-looking. He glanced at his phone and read the other two texts.

 _From Unsaved Number_ : I saved u some fries from Josies, u looked like u wanted them. I swear they arent poisoned

 _From Unsaved Number_ : that sounds super sketch but theyre not i swear. Just eat them okay

 _Not everything has an explanation,_ Ms. Kasuga reminded him, and Theo deleted the text ( _Why?_ ) he’d been about to send. Instead, he tapped out an equally brief message.

 _To Liam Dunbar_ : Thanks.

And then, in an uncharacteristically optimistic decision, Theo decided not to look a gift horse—or rather a gift werewolf—in the mouth, and called in sick to Ms. Peters at the hardware store. He soaked in the warmth of the late afternoon sun as he sat behind Ms. Kasuga’s coffee shop, slowly savoring Liam’s stone-cold leftover garlic fries, all thoughts of the rogue omega pushed far out of his mind, Kit-Kats tucked away for some far-off rainy day.

 

* * *

 

Of course, this was Beacon Hills, so the moment didn’t last.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See end notes for squicky details. In other news, this chapter fought me so hard.

A massive _thump_ rocked the pickup late that night. Theo’s eyes snapped open, pissed off beyond belief. Despite the fact that he wasn’t asleep, and that he probably wouldn't have been able to sleep anyways, he was still offended on principle; a quick check of his phone revealed that it was indeed dark o’clock. Nobody messed with his truck at two in the fucking morning, and especially not two nights in a row, if it was who Theo thought it was.

Theo kicked his blanket off and reached above his head for the door latch, rolling backwards out of his truck.

He landed lightly, in a crouch. The omega girl’s smell, like rich dirt and crushed grass overlaid by a landfill, hit him as he stood up slowly, nostrils flaring. The shift came on without him meaning it to, claws curling over his fingertips and cartilage knitting itself over the bridge of his nose, teeth growing into fangs.

She was hunched over in the bed of his pickup, face pressed into the corner where Liam had left the garlic fries. Theo leapt up to the side of the box, the impact of his landing rocking the truck again and making her stiffen.

She whirled around and snarled at him, long and mean. Unbidden, a growl rumbled out of Theo’s chest, his ‘wolf responding to his rising annoyance and anger.

Theo hopped onto the roof of the truck, staring down at her balefully, and the girl’s eyes flashed. She stepped up onto the ledge, bare toes and fingers curled over the edge, black claws digging into the truck bed's metal wall just the slightest bit.

 _If you dent my truck any more, you're dead,_ Theo thought, seething. His growl pitched louder when she didn’t turn tail and run, despite Theo’s massive advantage. Between Theo's superior size and muscle mass, strategically sound location, and (presumably) more regular eating habits, Theo would likely come out on top no matter how this went. She was determined, he’d give her that. Either that, or she was out of her _mind_.

Her jaw unhinged, saliva stringing between her fangs, and she held it for a moment, as if making sure Theo wasn't about to try something. Then, she let loose a roar that was so entirely different from their encounter the day before, Theo was almost taken aback.

Almost.

This time, instead of sounding groundless and unfocused, her roar had an odd ring of _possessiveness_ to it.  _Back off_ , it said, _this? Mine._ It was also so loud that the silence immediately afterwards was nearly deafening, but Theo shook off the slight ringing in his ears and laughed.

“If you want to play it like that,” Theo said, the words slurred around his fangs. Because this was _his_ truck, and those had been _his fries_ , _and_  it was two in the morning! And the day before had been going so well, too. 

After a long, tenuous pause, the omega still staring at him defiantly, he roared back, the thundering wolf and the higher-pitched coyote notes layered over each other. There was a reason he avoided doing this, as a general rule; it sounded discordant if his heart wasn’t in it, and for the most part it hadn’t been when he’d roared before.

But now, his _get out of my sight before I make you_ was loud, clear, and 100% sincere.

Theo was a chimera, not an alpha, so the automatic submission Scott usually got didn’t come, but the girl’s beta form wavered momentarily under the sheer force of it, heavy brow smoothing out into a slim, delicate nose. Her hands flew up to cover her ears, claws inadvertently scratching her scalp lightly. Droplets of blood left shiny trails as the cuts bled and healed; the metallic scent of it was overwhelmingly pervasive.

Despite this, she didn’t look nearly as afraid as Theo would have expected. It was like any survival instincts she’d had was completely gone in her desire to get… whatever it was she wanted. Theo still wasn’t sure.

She growled at him again, long and low and not at all cowed, and Theo growled back, a sharp chuff that said that he was entirely unimpressed. For a moment, they stared at each other, mouths still open around their fangs. Her teeth gnashed, clicking together sickeningly: once, then twice.

Then she pivoted, dropped down from the truck, and loped away on all fours. Theo sat heavily on the top of his truck, tracking the sound of her claws scraping the concrete until they'd disappeared among the quiet night sounds of Beacon Hills. Then, still on edge, he jumped down to the ground, slid back into the car, and texted Scott.

 _To Scott McCall:_ Met our visitor again. Definitely a lot more

He paused, unsure how to describe it, and deleted the text.

 _To Scott McCall:_ Omega seems to be intent on throwing down, definitely more aggressive this time. No physical damage done on either side. Where should we meet to discuss?

Scott McCall texted back moments later, as if he’d been up already.

 _From Scott McCall:_ Heard the howl. Evrything good?

 _From Scott McCall:_ *everything

 _To Scott McCall:_ Don’t worry, it’s fine.

 _From Scott McCall:_ k. Liam is doing shooting drills w/ the devenford prep kids from 11-12 so we’re eating at the mall around 12:30

 _From Scott McCall:_ I think ppl are bringing their own food. Im ordering a pizza but im pretty sure u don’t want to get between Malia and her food

 _To Scott McCall:_ Fair enough.

He settled back into his nest of blankets, but when sleep didn't come—unsurprisingly—Theo opened the bag of kit-kats and had a couple. He deserved them, after that mess.

 

* * *

 

Theo never even got to the mall.

The sun was shining, the people of Beacon Hills were out enjoying the nice day, and Theo was parked behind Ms. Peters' hardware store alongside a couple of trucks with stacks of plywood on them. He'd picked up a couple hours for William, who'd come down with pink-eye after volunteering at the local daycare, and he'd gotten off just in time for the lunch meeting Scott had planned. But as soon as he keyed the ignition, his phone blew up. He grabbed his phone, unlocking it and reading his texts.

 _From Liam Dunbar:_ Scott bring the pack and get to my house

 _From Liam Dunbar:_ NOW

 _From Liam Dunbar:_  u too theo

 _From Scott McCall:_  R u ok???

 _From Liam Dunbar:_  Im fine but you need to see this

 _To Liam Dunbar, Scott McCall:_ I’m 15 minutes away.

Theo shifted the truck into gear again and peeled out of the parking lot of Ms. Peters’ hardware store, nearly sideswiping a SUV as he rejoined traffic without looking.

A weird, foreign feeling bubbled under Theo’s skin, and his fingers itched where they were clenched around the steering wheel, knuckles white and plastic threatening to buckle. Every time the speedometer dipped below 40 miles an hour, his stomach flipped. When a stale green light turned yellow, he shot through the intersection, slowing only when the sedan in front of him flashed its brake lights.

As he drew nearer to Liam’s house, his phone buzzed again. He did a sloppy parallel parking job along the curb, not even bothering to look down the sleepy suburban street as he jumped out, grabbing his phone from the cup holder and the keys from the ignition.

Theo’s nose wrinkled as he caught a whiff of the omega girl, the itch in his fingers dissipating as his claws came out. He jogged up the driveway, noting the Jeep parked across the street, and checked his phone as he knocked on the door.

 _From Liam Dunbar:_ Door’s unlocked

Theo lowered his hand and twisted the doorknob, claws retreating as they scrabbled for purchase against the metal. He could hear Liam’s jack-hammering heart all the way from the ultra-tidy foyer, and he followed the sound of it up to what was presumably his bedroom, Liam standing shirtless in the doorway. Scott hovered at his shoulder, surrounded by the rest of the pack.

“Where are your parents?” Scott was asking. "And why weren't you wearing pads?"

“Work,” Liam answered. “Dad’s at the hospital, mom’s doing administrative help at the school. It was just shooting drills, I didn't need pads.”

“Okay,” Scott said, and glanced up at Theo. "Thanks for getting here." 

“What is he doing here?” Mason whispered, seemingly forgetting that Theo, too, could hear him.

To Corey’s shrug, Scott answered, “Because he knows what’s happening. I think. I hope so, since I have no clue what’s happening.”

“Do you?” Liam said, sounding lost. His maroon lacrosse jersey was hanging from one finger, his helmet tucked under the same arm. He was still wearing knee-high neon green socks and black slides with his maroon and white shorts, which was a fashion choice that Theo wasn’t about to comment on, and Theo was momentarily distracted by the rippling of muscles under Liam’s skin as Scott’s beta rolled his shoulders uncomfortably.

Theo shrugged noncommittally, snapping back to himself. "Let me by," he said, gently moving Scott out of the way so he could actually _see_ something. “Any news on the girl’s pack?” Theo asked of Scott as he took it in.

“Stiles is still working on it,” the alpha said.

Theo hummed. Obviously, the point of concern was the massive buck that someone had killed and dragged into Liam’s room, presumably through the window based on the way it was swung all the way open. The blood around the deer’s throat—where a single deep cut had opened it up all the way to the windpipe—had been cleaned up before it had been deposited, presumably by the omega, whose stench still lingered in the room.

The deer’s dead eye stared at Theo balefully as he approached the bed. Upon a careful sniff, Theo found that Liam had made it, probably that morning, and the omega had simply put the buck on it and left the way she had come. Another cautious inhale revealed that Liam had probably become well-acquainted with his hand recently, but since it was none of Theo’s business he pushed it out of his mind and moved on. A disorganized bookshelf took up part of the wall across from the bed, the space split with a floor-length mirror. The plush navy carpet sunk under Theo's shoes every time he moved. 

A desk sat up against the part of the window that didn't open, which faced north: ideal for studying. Theo glanced back at the pack still lingered in the doorway, as if afraid to enter. Theo frowned at them, and then on a hunch crossed over to the window and leaned out.

“Okay, I thought the excess of spit was nasty, but that’s disgusting,” Theo said, staring down at the flowers that ringed the house.

“What do you mean?” Liam asked, shuffling a couple steps into the room.

“She peed in your rosebushes,” Theo said bluntly, stepping back and closing the window, flipping the lock that Liam had apparently forgotten to use. Theo took in Liam’s disgusted, faintly horrified look and changed the subject, gesturing at the deer. “What do you want to do about that?”

Scott glanced at Malia, Mason and Corey, who were still lurking in the doorway. “There’s a tarp in the back of the Jeep,” Scott said, handing Mason the keys. "Liam, where your gloves?"

A good choice, in Theo’s opinion. Mason looked like he was about to throw up.

"Drawer to the right of the sink in the kitchen," Liam said, and Corey and Mason beat it downstairs, the keys rattling in Mason's hand.

“You guys can take it to Deaton's,” Scott told Malia. “He'll want to check it out, and he'll know what to do with it.”

Theo snapped a latex glove on and helped lift the deer onto the tarp, supporting its lolling head to prevent the horns from accidentally catching anybody. The deer’s body was still warm, which meant the omega had come and gone just before Liam had gotten to his house after practice.

Mason and Corey both took one of the front corners, while Malia took the back edge, and the three of them made their way out of the room and down the stairs, quietly bickering back and forth as they did so. Liam, still shirtless, kicked off his slides and dropped his jersey into the laundry hamper by the door, and then chucked his socks in, one by one. He brushed past Theo and opened his closet, shoving the helmet away and fishing out a battered-looking, overlarge purple shirt that read _UW School of Medicine_.

As Theo observed Liam go about his business, a creeping suspicion began to sink in. The girl had showed up, confused, when Theo had approached the first time, but when she’d been in the truck bed, she’d been checking out where the fries had been before Theo had eaten them—where Liam had lingered, presumably, to drop them off.

Now, with the marking and the dead deer, it seemed an awful lot like she’d found something, or rather some _one_ , to fixate on.

Well, shit.

And then another revelation, quickly on the heels of that one: she hadn’t been defensive when Theo’d roared back, she’d been _irritated._ Because she saw Theo as an obstacle between her and what she wanted.

Even better.

“Do you have anything?” Scott asked.

“I’ll let you know when I have something concrete to share with the class,” Theo said, because he might be right about the first point, but the second idea might not go over so well. “But this definitely isn’t aggressive, though.”

“Seems plenty aggressive,” Liam said, taking his cleats out of his lacrosse bag and shoving them into his closet.

Scott shook his head, as if he had arrived at a similar conclusion to Theo’s. “It’s not aggressive,” he reassured Liam, locking eyes with Theo, a truly disturbing grin beginning to tug at the corners of his mouth. Liam, stripping the sheets from his bed, made a confused noise.

“Do you want to say it, or should I?” Scott asked Theo, having apparently blown straight past _worried_ and straight into _amused,_ crossed arms and thunderous expression loosening. 

Theo smirked. "By all means,” he said. "Tell him."

“Tell me what?” Liam asked, looking between the two of them, pausing in the middle of switching out his pillowcases.

“She really, _really_ doesn't want to kill you,” Scott said, laughter in his voice.

Liam, taken aback, only said "And?" in a strangled sort of voice.

“She’s trying to seduce you.” Scott wiggled his eyebrows, trying to suppress a leer and failing. "Is it working?"

Theo watched with poorly concealed amusement as Liam dropped the pillow, his face going through confusion, realization, relief, and flaming embarrassment before settling somewhere between disgust and disbelief.

"Of course this is my life," he said to the room at large, still sounding as if he'd choked on a frog. "I can't decide if I should be flattered or horrified." 

Theo snorted, but before he could open his mouth to say something, a phone buzzed. Scott pulled his out of his pocket and unlocked it, eyebrows climbing and mirth evaporating as he read. Theo found himself anticipating what the alpha would say next, despite himself.

“And, on that note,” Scott said, back to serious, fingers already moving over the screen, “if you shower now, Liam, make it quick. We’re going to catch up to the others at the clinic. Stiles has news.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> During this chapter, the 'wolves deal with the disposal of a neatly killed and presumably healthy dead deer, doing so in a reasonably safe manner. Assume that everyone--including the 'wolves--washed their hands thoroughly before doing anything else, and Scott made Liam turn his bedsheets over to Deaton or burn them or something. If you happen to be in a similar situation, _don't touch the dead thing with your bare hands!!_
> 
> Some meta notes:
> 
> \- Even the existence of a wolf/coyote chimera is somewhat baffling to me. In the wild, both are apex predators and often directly compete for prey. Wolves often instinctively attack a coyote for being too close. (Of course, coywolves do exist in cities etc., but in their natural habitat they rarely coexist in harmony.) At some points during the show, it's suggested that the wolf's instincts are sort of separate from their more human leanings (controlling the wolf etc.); which, logically, means that most shifters follow the same pattern. Theo's got both the wolf and the coyote fighting his human nature. For this reason, I think Theo's management of his shift is a little different than most 'wolves; I'll probably go into more detail eventually. Theo refers to the collective instinct bundle as a "wolf" because the wolf seems to be the more prominent--and dominant--of the two.
> 
> \- Re: Theo's howl--Theo does growl at times, and he has the little short roar in 6x16 ("Pressure Test"), but I headcanon the full, drawn-out howl to be a little different. The only remarkable difference between werecoyotes and werewolves (aside from the full shift obviously) is their roar. Malia's roar, as an example, is remarkably higher-pitched--almost a dry rattle or a hiss. I'm going to posit that that's because she's a werecoyote, not because she's female. Werewolves have low, deep roars, and so Theo, instead of meeting the tone in the middle, sounds like he's howling in two voices. (Most of the 'wolves do this: they roar like a human with the wolf layered over top. Theo's human voice is just sort of overridden by his coyote voice.) Scary as fuck, but the coyote/wolf personality dichotomy means that sometimes it doesn't work out like it should and it comes out sort of incoherent and jumbled.


	3. Chapter 3

Theo had already started the truck, turned up the AC, and was absentmindedly flipping through radio stations before Scott opened his mouth, twisting in the shotgun seat to face Theo.

“Some of the other betas are getting a little nervous, with this omega hanging around. You good?”

Theo pointedly didn’t look at Scott, choosing instead to stare straight ahead at the symmetrical street of cookie-cutter houses painted in muted blue-greys and beiges. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Scott shrugged, relaxing back into the seat. Theo was distantly grateful that he’d forced himself to make his “bed” every morning: instead of the back seat being covered in twisted-up blankets, they were neatly stacked. In the beginning it had been out of some faint paranoia that someone would look into his truck and realize it held everything he had, but over time the routine had become soothing and grounding.

“I’m glad,” Scott started again into the sudden silence. This time it was Theo who glanced over at the alpha, who returned his gaze levelly. “I’m glad that you, um—”

“What, that I made an effort to be a decent citizen of Beacon Hills and put my plans of usurping your power on hold?” Theo said, with a shit-eating grin. When he looked over again, Scott was staring at him, horrified.

“On hold?” he said, voice pitching upwards dramatically. 

Theo let him hang, a little, just to see the way his eyebrows slowly inched upwards. “Relax, Scott,” Theo said after a long moment. “I was joking.”

There was tense pause while Scott searched his face, but he eventually said “Okay,” still looking uneasy. Maybe Theo should lay off the jokes about his pre-hell power-hungry ways, at least for a while. “Anyways. I was going to say that I was glad you were helping out the pack.”

Theo nodded, fingers drumming absently on the steering column. “Not a big deal. Any threat on your territory is a threat on mine,” he said with a half-shrug. Inside the Geyer-Dunbar house, a water fixture turned off—probably the shower.

“And you’re just in this for yourself,” Scott said, slouching a little.

Theo shrugged again. “More or less,” he said, ignoring the way the twisting feeling in his chest made it feel like a lie.

Scott frowned with just the corner of his mouth, his eyebrows in their perpetual state of ‘vaguely worried,’ all pinched upwards in the middle. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but shook his head as if deciding not to. Instead, he popped the door open and said, at a normal volume, “Liam, we’re leaving if you don’t hurry up.”

Scott’s words were rewarded with a loud  _ thump _ and a string of colorful profanity. A second crash followed shortly, Liam yelping and calling back, “I’m coming! Hold on!”

Sure enough, Liam slammed through the front door moments later, locking it behind him with one hand and towelling his hair off with the other. He had blood leaking from a split lip, which was rapidly healing as Theo watched. He’d changed into black shorts and swapped his green socks for blue ones, but kept the UW shirt and the slides.

“Not a word,” Liam warned as he slid into the back seat, still fluffing his hair with the towel. Theo bit back on the words threatening to spill—something along the lines of  _ aw, did the puppy get wet? _ but couldn’t quite stop the smile from spreading over his face.

“Wasn’t going to say anything,” Theo said, shifting into gear and pulling into a tight U-turn, Liam grabbing for his seatbelt.

When Theo checked the rearview mirror, Liam was scowling at him. Something fluttery took up residence inside Theo’s ribs even as he smirked back.

Scott’s eyes flew open, alarmed, and he stared at Theo, then swivelled in his seat to look hard at Liam, then back at Theo. “Oh my god,” he said, a note of hysteria in his voice. “Holy shit.”

Theo looked sharply over at Scott, startled. “What?”

“You guys are… you guys are friends,” Scott said hesitantly. Not a lie, but his tone suggested that he hadn’t really said what he’d been thinking.

“I guess,” Liam said, giving up on the scowl in favor of bafflement. He ran his hands over his hair, obviously trying to keep it in place, but the still-wet strands defied the attempt at taming them.

Theo flicked on the turn signal, pausing briefly at a four-way stop before smoothly guiding his truck into the turn. “Spit it out, Scott,” Theo said, not taking his eyes off of the road.

Scott shook his head. “No, I’ll wait until I have something concrete to share with the class,” he said, and leaned forward to change the station. Theo couldn’t even bring himself to be bitter about turning Theo’s words back on him.

The rest of the ride was spent in relative silence, Theo intent on the road and Scott texting Stiles. Theo caught himself glancing at the rearview mirror more often than usual. Once, when he looked, Liam was frowning at the stack of blankets on the other seat, but when he looked again, the beta was staring out the window, expression carefully neutral.

“We’re here,” Scott announced unnecessarily as Theo pulled into a parking spot. The alpha got out first, followed by Liam, and Theo hit the emergency brake.

“Hey, Theo?” Liam called. “Do you mind if I leave my towel in your car?”

“Sure,” Theo said, sliding out of the truck. Liam tossed his towel onto his seat, not even bothering to fold it, and followed Theo into the clinic.

* * *

 

 _“Hey guys,”_ Stiles said, camera wobbling a bit as he moved. “ _Can you see and hear me alright?_ ” At Scott’s nod, he grinned. “ _Great! I was having some issues skyping my dad yesterday, so I just wanted to make sure.”_ The pack—and Theo—were crowded around the table, shoulder to shoulder. “ _Look! It’s Scott! And the puppy! And everyone else! And… Theo.”_

“Nice to see you too, Stiles,” Theo said, only a little sarcastically.

Stiles looked at Scott significantly, or where Scott must have shown up on his phone. The image went sideways as Stiles flipped the phone, and Scott mimicked the action so that Stiles might get a clearer view of everyone huddled around the table.

“ _ Um, well, before I launch into anything super huge, I wanted to show you who I found while hanging out in the great big city of D.C.” _

The last part of the sentence was said in a pointedly louder tone, and when the response Stiles had obviously been expecting didn’t come, he curled his lip a little in truly Stiles-like fashion.

“ _ Dude, get your furry werewolf butt down—oh my  _ god _ why do you insist on doing that.” _

Another guy appeared next to Stiles, with thick scruff and dark hair. His werewolf-blue eyes flashed. “ _ Stiles, shut up.” _

“Derek,” Scott said, defensively. Theo looked at him askance. If this guy was enough to put Scott, the True Alpha, on edge, Theo definitely  _ did not _ want to cross him. Lydia sighed, but Malia didn’t react, as if reacquainting with long-lost family members was old hat for her.  _ Because it probably is, _ Theo’s brain suggested, and then he ruthlessly squashed the thought.

Mason and Corey shared a look like  _ damn, I would tap that _ , and then Scott’s name-drop must have sunken in, because Mason whipped around to face the screen again so fast Theo could swear he heard his neck pop. “Wait, Derek? As in Derek Hale? As in the guy who—”

“ _ Yeah,” _ Stiles said, drawing it out. “ _ Look, Mason, those were a rough couple of days. _ ”

“ _ You accused me of  _ murder. Twice. _ Seems like a bit more than a couple of days. _ ”

“ _ You can stop at any time now, Derek,” _ Stiles said, and Derek Hale fell silent. Of course Theo had known who the Hales were, but his actual interactions with them were incredibly limited on account of the fact that no Hales were actually left in Beacon Hills. Aside from Peter Hale, of course, who was generally said to be the exception and not the norm, Hale-wise.

“ _ Look, okay, how we encountered each other again is a long, uncomfortable story for a number of reasons, so I’ll just give you the low-down. That symbol is the symbol of the Dubois clan. They live in some forest in North Carolina, and I tried contacting them but nothing—not even carrier pigeon or magical owl—went through, so I talked to my sources. Something big happened in the area, big enough that the FBI is getting involved in it, but nobody knows exactly what.” _

Stiles, obviously frustrated, ran a hand through his hair. Derek, unconcerned by Stiles’ agitation, moved out of the frame and reappeared with a water bottle, sat down on the couch behind Stiles, and turned the TV on, switching channels from a local news station to a baseball game. “ _ Derek’s going to go down to check it out tomorrow—the Camaro’s in the shop.” _

“What happened to it?” Liam asked.

Derek pointed over the back of the sofa at Stiles, not looking away from the game. Stiles shrugged and set his phone down on something, the camera jostling with the movement. “ _ We may have run into some bridge trolls.” _

“ _ Literally,”  _ Derek said, barely loud enough to be heard by the phone’s mic.

“ _ Anyways. We’ll get back to you on that.” _

“Anything we can do on our end?” Scott, this time, leaned forward.

Stiles shrugged again. “ _ Maybe talk to Argent? I see you’re at Deaton’s, he should be able to help too. Scott, Derek says that you should avoid doing the alpha roar.” _ Derek, in the background, held a thumb up.

“Why?”

“ _ The Dubois pack was, from my understanding, pretty strict about who was and wasn’t pack,”  _ Stiles said. “ _ If you managed to get commanded by another alpha, you were pretty much disowned and left to fend for yourself. Right, Derek?” _

“ _ Yep,”  _ Derek affirmed, turning to look at the phone. “ _ One of their betas was my sister-in-law. She’d made it all the way to Beacon Hills before finding a pack that was willing to take her in. The Dubois clan are pretty well-connected, too, so they’d managed to force other packs into agreeing that they wouldn’t take her in. Unless you want another beta you can barely manage, don’t risk it.” _

“No alpha roar. Got it.” Scott nodded, digesting this. “Anything else?”

“ _ Did I get everything?” _ Derek, who had turned back to the game, held up a thumbs-up again, and Stiles shook his head. “ _ Nope. Have fun with Deaton. The guy’s impossible. _ ”

“Your faith in me is boundless, Mr. Stilinski,” Deaton said, appearing at Theo’s shoulder. Liam jumped.

Stiles smiled a smile that promised mischief and pain upon whoever saw it. “ _ No problem, Deaton. Talk to y’alls later. _ ”

“ _ Y’alls _ ,” Derek repeated.

“ _ Shut up. Live long and prosper, you guys. Stiles out.” _

“Stiles was right on that last point,” Deaton said, moving around the table to stand next to Scott. “The Dubois pack is pretty notorious for being very elitist and exclusive. They were also very well-established, much as the Hales were. Even I felt the ripple effect of what happened.”

To Mason’s enquiring look, Deaton held his palms up. “I don’t know exactly what happened, and it’s likely that Derek will find out before word reaches us. Scott made me aware of his and Theo’s theory, and I’d like to confirm that it’s correct, in all likelihood.”

“Great,” Liam said, throwing his hands up, shoulders hunching defensively. “Fabulous.”

“And what exactly was that  _ theory _ ?” Malia said, narrowing her eyes at Theo suspiciously, despite the fact that Deaton had literally  _ just confirmed _ that Scott backed up his claim. This pack, honestly. They’d probably all gotten a lesson from Stiles in paranoia, justified or otherwise.

“She’s attempting to court Liam,” Deaton said, sagely placating.

Corey choked on air.

“Liam, you said you smelled her at lacrosse practice?” Deaton turned towards Liam. “She’s observing your habits, making her presence known to you. She’s hoping that you might be more receptive to your advances. The deer was to prove to you that she’s capable of hunting and caring for children.”

“Children,” Liam repeated. “Oh my god.”

“Why come to me, then?” Theo asked, because if he was right he wanted to hear Deaton say it out loud. And because Liam looked as if he was about to throw up, and Theo wasn’t exactly enthused to see that. “Why not anyone else?”

“That’s a good question.” Deaton paused, then looked unnervingly at each person in turn. “She’s avoiding Scott because she’s wary of his status as alpha. That might be partly because of the Dubois clan’s insistence on seclusion. But she might eventually approach him with different kinds of gifts—mainly proof that she can eliminate threats to the pack, namely other supernaturals and predators.

“Malia doesn’t concern her because she’s essentially an extension of Scott. Even beyond that, her romantic connection to Scott indicates to the omega that Malia doesn’t pose a threat to the relationship between herself and Liam. Lydia, as a banshee, you’re likely outside her radar—most packs aren’t integrated like this one is, and she probably doesn’t know what to make of you. As long as you avoid frequent interaction with Liam, she will probably avoid you in turn.

“Like Malia, both Corey and Mason don’t warrant attention because they’re romantically involved as well. However, Theo is unattached.”

“Why not court Theo instead?” Liam asked, grumpy. “Why me?”

“Because of your relationship with Scott. If she can ingratiate herself with you, she’ll have a stable pack in the case that her pack is inclined to disavow her.”

“This gets better and better!” Liam said, sarcasm dripping from every word.

“What threat does Theo pose?” Scott questioned. “Theo isn’t attached to the pack like everyone else is—not yet anyway—and Theo and Liam aren’t  _ attached _ anyways.”

“If they were, she wouldn’t be attempting anything. This is a last resort for her, a last attempt to find an anchor. For whatever reason, she must think Theo is competition for Liam’s, er, affections. It’s probably nothing you did, but she will seek to remove you.”

“Great,” Theo said. Just as he’d thought, the McCall pack had swept him up into their shit again, and in a  _ shocking _ turn of events, it would be Theo who drew the short straw.

Liam mulled this over, and then his eyes widened. “It’s my fault.”

Everyone looked at him, startled. Liam groaned and tipped his head back. Theo tried not to stare too long at his throat. “You said the deer was proof that she could provide for a family, right?” he asked the ceiling.

“Yes.”

“I gave Theo a box of French fries,” Liam muttered. 

Theo rolled his eyes. “It was just a box of fries.” Mason watched the entire exchange like it was a tennis match, eyes wide.

“Which you ate, I presume.”

“Of course I ate the fries,” Theo said, affronted. Liam looked inordinately pleased. “They were good fries.” 

“She was likely observing the entire exchange,” Deaton said. “She must have interpreted your eating the fries to mean you were accepting Liam’s pursuit.”

Liam looked decidedly less pleased. Theo couldn’t help but agree.

“Where did you leave them?” Deaton asked Liam. 

“In his truck,” Liam said. “Does that matter?”

“Hmm. Not as much as I thought it did,” Deaton said, contemplative. Something deep in Theo’s brain urged him to tell Deaton, tell the pack. Liam had left the fries in Theo’s truck, which might have been the reason the omega had put the deer in Liam’s room.

But as soon as he opened his mouth, the words soured and stuck in his throat, his pride getting the better of him. Maybe once he had a roof over his head and an actual mattress to sleep on, he’d admit it, but for now—he didn’t need their help. Not in this respect.

_ It’s okay to ask for help, _ a voice in Theo’s head insisted. It sounded eerily like Ms. Kasuga. He ignored it.

“How can we fix it?” Scott asked, turning to Deaton. “If both Stiles  _ and _ Derek said not to use the alpha roar—”

“Definitely don’t,” Deaton confirmed. “And physically confronting her would only make her more aggressive. The way I see it, there’s only one real option.”

“You have to pretend to be together,” Lydia said, lips pursed. Theo had nearly forgotten about her—she’d simply been listening the entire time, taking in and turning over all of the new information. Deaton gave her an acknowledging nod. 

“If Theo got the hell out of Beacon Hills, would that help?” Malia, this time. 

Scott shook his head. “No, we’re not making Theo leave Beacon Hills.”

Lydia, too, shook her head. “We’re going to have the Dubois clan descending upon us as soon as Derek tracks them down. We need to present a united front, and a pack member outside pack territory doesn’t exactly say ‘we know what we’re doing.’ Stiles going to college is acceptable, but forcing Theo out because we can’t handle an omega? Not so much.”

“The Dubois pack might decide to decimate us simply on principle,” Deaton said with a shrug. 

“Why do I have to pretend to date him, though?” Liam asked, the little wrinkle appearing along the bridge of his nose. 

Theo nodded. “Seconded. Why would it help either of us?”

“I can’t promise it’ll work, but it’ll probably keep both of you alive,” Lydia said. “And that’s a bonus.”

“And you’re okay with this?” Theo asked of the pack at large, after a long moment of consideration.

“I am not okay with this,” Malia objected. “I just think we could do this differently.”

“And could we?” Liam asked. “Because it seems like we don’t have any other options.”

Deaton turned his palms up; Lydia tilted her head to the side. Scott considered the other two’s reactions and sighed. “No, it doesn’t.”

“Great,” Theo said, so acidly that Corey flinched, startled. “But it’ll keep me alive, and I can put up with Liam for a week.”

“I don’t have a problem with it,” Liam said in a tone that made Theo’s hackles rise. “Even if you do.”

Hadn’t they just been agreeing a second ago? Theo growled, the feel of it vibrating in his chest, feeling the fangs slide out. Liam’s eyes flashed and his claws curled into the metal of the examination table, denting under the force of his fingers. “I don’t have a problem with it,” he said, jaw clenched and words muffled.

Scott growled a decibel louder than Theo, the sound so abrupt it was more like a bark. Both Theo and Liam snapped to attention in time to see him flash his eyes, the bright red a contrast to their usual brown. Liam looked down, but Theo simply looked levelly back, uncompromising. Scott wasn’t his alpha, and despite the fact that Lydia considered him pack, evidently everyone else was not on board with the idea.

Deaton sighed. “See to it that you don’t cause undue property damage,” he intoned, and swept out of the room. 

“With that kind of attitude, you’re fooling nobody, especially not an omega  _ werewolf _ who can literally  _ smell your feelings. _ Pretend you like each other.” Even Scott, Theo was vaguely amused to note, had trouble pronouncing certain words around his fangs. 

Lydia sighed and flipped her hair over her shoulder. “C’mon, Malia, we agreed to go shopping,” she called as she strode out of the clinic, Malia pecking Scott’s cheek quickly before racing after the banshee.

“I’ll drive you home,” Mason quietly offered Liam, who relaxed at the words and followed his friend out of the examination room without hesitation, Corey on their heels. Scott was the last to leave, after giving Theo a simultaneously judgemental and concerned look. 

The clinic was between the high school and the mall, and they must have met there while Liam walked home: Mason, Liam and Corey left in the Jeep, Lydia and Malia in her flashy silver sedan, Scott on his bike. 

Theo stood in the examination room alone, staring at the dents Liam had made in the table.

_ This is going to suck, _ he thought, and walked out of the clinic without looking back.

* * *

 

Later that night, he opened the back door and found Liam’s towel there, still thrown haphazardly over the seat. Theo carefully folded it and put it on the console.

The smell of Liam’s shampoo, faintly chemical but mostly coconut-scented, was  _ overwhelming _ , having worked its way into the leather over the course of the afternoon. Yet despite the foreign scents of Scott and Liam, Theo asleep faster than he ever had since he’d been yanked out of hell. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Featuring: Theo and his massive, easily damaged pride. Guys, if you ever find yourself in a similar position as Theo, please!! ask!! for!! help!! It's not your fault, and there are plenty of resources out there ready and willing to help you!!!!
> 
> Meta notes:
> 
> \- Dubois is a French last name. It means "of the forest."
> 
> \- Some useless notes about the clan: Their symbol (which you can find [here](http://anukite.tumblr.com/post/164919135128/prototype-hearts-chapter-3-anukite-teen) if you didn't arrive here via my tumblr post) is heavily centered around the in-canon symbol for revenge. The Dubois clan has a long and storied past with a particularly ruthless group of hunters, and it's out of fear that they keep themselves hidden away from the rest of the supernatural world. Due to the inclination of these hunters (about which I will write more eventually) to use literally any weakness against the clan, they're forced to expel members that have shown any allegiance to other clans, not for fear of their own demise but for fear of theirs. Unfortunately this tendency can come across as ruthless and stuffy, but they honestly don't mean it that way.
> 
> \- Wondering what Derek and Stiles were up to on the eastern seaboard? It's about to get a lot worse for them, too... Note that this fic is NOT tagged with Sterek; their adventures are antagonistically platonic and nothing more. If you want to read more into it, that's your prerogative; I won't stop you. ;)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm [anukite](http://anukite.tumblr.com/) on tumblr. Please let me know if I should tag something :)


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